


so lucky to have you

by theafterimages



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 15:46:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3615462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theafterimages/pseuds/theafterimages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting alone time has been all but impossible for new boyfriends Tao and Sehun. A camping trip seems like the ideal solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so lucky to have you

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for [immortaolize](http://immortaolize.livejournal.com/) and posted [here](http://immortaolize.livejournal.com/3705.html) in November 2014.

It’s been four months since Sehun had accidentally grabbed a stranger’s drink at his regular coffee shop. Mr. Salted Caramel Mocha had chased Sehun halfway back to campus and swapped the drink for his name (Zitao), his number, and a promise to treat him to another one soon. Nearly two months to the day after Zitao had invited Sehun back to that same coffee shop for a Valentine’s Day confession, things are almost perfect. 

Almost.

Especially right now, Sehun thinks—as best he can, anyway, which is a struggle when he’s all but naked in Zitao’s bed. Zitao's hot and eager above him and his hands seem to be everywhere at once as his mouth claims Sehun’s over and over again.

Zitao gasps out Sehun’s name and Sehun impulsively moves, rolling Zitao onto his back and straddling his waist to take in the sight of Zitao underneath him, his cheeks flushed and hair wrecked, eyeliner smudging around pupil-blown eyes. Sehun can’t ever get used to this, can’t ever stop needing _more_.

Zitao bucks up beneath him but doesn’t try to unseat him, and when Sehun grips Zitao’s wrists over his head Zitao inhales sharply, neck bared as he arches back. Zitao could move him easily, Sehun thinks, heat spiking as he imagines it, but he’s letting Sehun keep the position he’s claimed. Sehun presses open-mouthed kisses the long, soft terrain of his neck in reward, and Zitao whimpers every time he adds a small scrape of teeth. 

“Quiet,” Sehun reminds him hoarsely, only for a cry of his own to escape when Zitao frees a hand and tugs him forward, leaning up so that he can nip along Sehun’s collarbone, the way he’d learned how to do early on to render Sehun speechless.

“And you think I’m loud?” Zitao teases.

“You _are_.” Sehun’s next kiss has more bite to it than usual, startling a low moan out of Zitao. Pleased, Sehun rolls his hips against Zitao’s, Zitao’s cock hard against his even through two pairs of briefs. Zitao’s hands rise to cup around Sehun’s ass as they keep going, grinding harder against each other as they kiss hungrily. 

The headboard knocks relentlessly against the wall and Zitao grimaces at the sound but doesn’t slow down. “Joonmyun hyung’s gonna--kill us-”

“Who?” Sehun returns, and Zitao laughs into their next kiss.

Joonmyun doesn’t kill them, but he does knock on the door as if summoned thirty seconds later. Sehun grumbles but rolls off Zitao, peeking out from under the sheets so he can watch greedily as Zitao pulls on his discarded sweatpants and pads over to the door, where Joonmyun’s waiting, expression drawn and smile strained.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” Joonmyun says. He leans past Zitao to wave to Sehun, who frees a hand and waves back, laughing into the blankets. His hyung is so awkward sometimes. “It’s just kind of. Loud.”

“We’re sorry,” Zitao says penitently. “We’ll keep it down.” 

“Sorry, hyung,” Sehun calls. He wouldn’t bother with most people, but Joonmyun’s been studying so hard for these exams and has been looking halfway to a breakdown for a while, or at least halfway to collapsing from exhaustion. 

“It’s okay,” Joonmyun assures them, rubbing a hand over his face. His eye bags are starting to look darker than Zitao’s. “Just.”

“We’ll be quiet,” Zitao promises, and Joonmyun pats his arm, then waves to Sehun again before he leaves.

Zitao’s almost closed the door again when they make out the sound of scampering paws and a familiar little bark. Sure enough Zitao leans down and has Candy cradled in his arms when he straightens back up. “It’s your bedtime, isn’t it?” he coos to her. “Will you be good if Daddy lets you stay in here?” She yips, her whole body wiggling with delight, and Zitao looks hopefully at Sehun. “Is it okay if she’s in here with us?”

Sehun spares the still nearly full bottle of lube a resigned glance before saying, “Sure.” He’s starting to wonder which is more futile, Zitao ever training Candy to sleep in the living room at night or Sehun and Zitao ever actually getting the chance to use the box of condoms Sehun had bought as a joke for their one-month anniversary.

Zitao carries her over to the bed and sets her down before he flops next to Sehun. Candy clambers toward Sehun and he rolls onto his side, petting her indulgently until she decides she’s done and climbs over him to curl up above his head on the pillow. Sehun kisses the top of her tiny head before shifting forward to share Zitao’s pillow, leaving his to Candy. 

“Sorry about hyung,” Zitao says quietly, draping his arm over Sehun’s waist. “Again.”

“It’s not like my room’s any better,” Sehun points out. Jongin’s dance practice schedules are so unpredictable, and when he’s not at the studio or in class he’s sleeping like the dead in the small dorm room he and Sehun share. After the third time he’d interrupted Sehun and Zitao, they all reached a silent yet firm agreement they were better off just going to Zitao’s apartment—Joonmyun may be around just as much, but at least he always remembers to knock.

“We’ll be in Qingdao in a few weeks,” he reminds him, as if he’s reading Sehun’s mind, his fingers idly sketching patterns against Sehun’s lower back. Sehun shivers. The sensation calls up echoes of what they’d been doing before their latest interruptions, and Zitao smirks, letting his hand trail up Sehun’s spine to rest at the base of his neck. “We’ll get a lot of privacy there. We can do anything.”

Sehun’s been counting down the days to that ever since Zitao had asked him to join him when he visits home for his birthday. But even so, “I don’t want to wait that long,” Sehun says. He’s past caring if he sounds whiny. Given that he’s in bed with his absurdly hot, nearly naked boyfriend and unable to do anything about it, he figures he’s allowed to be. “Why don’t we just do it tomorrow? Hyung’ll be gone for half an hour, I can stretch myself ahead of time-”

“Sehun, it’s your first time,” Zitao protests. “We can’t rush it!”

“I don’t care,” Sehun insists. Two months of conflicting schedules, ever-present roommates, and general bad timing, of becoming more certain that no matter how much time he and Zitao get it will never be enough to satisfy him, has Sehun biting his lip as he adds, “I just want you.”

Zitao’s gaze softens and he shifts ever so slightly closer. “You have me,” he promises, voice low.

Sehun puts on a show of grimacing at that, and groans outright when Zitao kisses the tip of his nose. “You know what I mean.”

“But I want—you need better than that.” Familiar fingers that have traveled almost every part of Sehun’s body card through his hair, slow and gentle, Sehun’s skin tingling every time they approach his scalp. “I want us to have hours. I want to take my time. I want it to be perfect.”

“Sap,” Sehun says, but he can’t keep from smiling.

Zitao makes a face at him, features scrunching grotesquely, which Sehun mimics to the best of his ability. “Think about it. Do you want to rush it here, or take our time at the beach, in a huge bed, when we have the whole place to ourselves and can do it as many times as you want?”

Sehun thinks it over. “As many as I want?”

“It’s your _first time_ , it won’t be as many as-” Zitao begins with a laugh, the familiar sound curling through Sehun.

“Too late, you said it,” Sehun returns, relishing in his triumph until Zitao distracts him with kisses.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sehun can’t stay over at Zitao’s apartment tonight, but he always puts off leaving for as long as he can and now is no exception. Candy’s tiny puppy snores sound quietly in the background, and Zitao’s dozing against Sehun’s shoulder as Sehun plays Anipang on his phone. 

Both are interrupted when Sehun gets a selca from his brother and sister-in-law. His resulting laughter makes Zitao stir.

“What?” Zitao mumbles.

“My brother sent me something.” Sehun holds the phone out so Zitao can blink blearily at the screen. “They went camping this weekend.”

“That’s nice,” Zitao says around a yawn, stretching. Sehun wets his lips as he watches the play of well-toned muscles beneath Zitao’s skin, and then Zitao wraps himself back around Sehun, sighing in quiet satisfaction once he’s settled. Sehun has forgotten how this even started until Zitao adds, “I’ve never been camping.”

“Seriously? What did you do for vacation?”

“We traveled. Went to other countries, or took trips on the yacht…”

“Rich brat,” Sehun says, albeit fondly.

“Your rich brat,” Zitao murmurs, kissing Sehun’s shoulder.

That’s when Sehun gets the idea. Excitement bubbling up in him, he wets his lips and shifts a little, ignoring Zitao’s discontented whine. “What if we don’t have to wait for Qingdao to get away?” 

Zitao’s eyes open, and he stares at Sehun with visible confusion. “What?”

“We should go camping,” Sehun tells him.

“What?”

“Next weekend!” Sehun sits up, too overwhelmed to stay still. Getting away from Seoul early, getting to be with Zitao- “There’s one place Sejin hyung just went to that’s only a few hours away, this island—you can take lots of pictures there, it’s really pretty, you’ll like it-”

“When was the last time you went camping?” Zitao sits up, too, the blankets pooling at his waist. Sehun shoves his own half of the blankets away and Zitao’s hand naturally falls to rest on his hip, Sehun taking the cue to slide closer to him.

“I went all the time when I was a kid.”

“But not since then?”

Sehun waves away his concern. “We can borrow hyung’s gear, and they can give us advice-”

“But it’ll be your birthday,” Zitao reminds him, his gaze searching Sehun’s face.

“Exactly!” Sehun squeezes Zitao’s hand, waiting for him to understand. “That’s what I really want. Time for just us. To be alone.”

“But-” Zitao begins, and then his eyes widen. _Finally_. “While we’re _camping_?”

“Yes,” Sehun says firmly. “We’ll have time, and privacy, and if you’re getting birthday sex then so am I.”

He waits, watching Zitao think it over, Zitao absently toying with Sehun’s fingers. “Are you sure? We’re already planning to spend the day together. Maybe if we ask hyung or Jongin for privacy-”

Sehun doesn’t even have to think about _that_. “I don’t want to risk it.”

“But…” Zitao bites his lip. “We won’t have birthday cake for you, we won’t see your friends and family-”

“If we leave Sunday morning, we’ll be back in Seoul in time for dinner with my parents,” Sehun reminds him. “We can have cake then.”

“But if we don’t wait—we won’t even have a real bed, it won’t-”

Sehun shakes his head, cupping Zitao’s face in his hands. “I don’t _care_ ,” he assures him. “I just want to be with you. That’s all.”

Zitao smiles wryly, raising a hand to stroke the back of Sehun’s. “What should I wear to go camping?” he asks at last, and Sehun cheers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sehun has an early class on Friday, so they get a later start than he would have liked. It’s delayed even further by Joonmyun giving Zitao last minute instructions about his car and Zitao giving Joonmyun last minute instructions about Candy, and then, of course, by Zitao and Sehun saying good-bye to Candy.

Zitao snaps a picture just as Candy licks the tip of Sehun’s nose, Sehun’s fingers scratching behind her tiny ears. “Both my babies,” he all but coos, showing it to Sehun. Sehun bites his lip, trying not to show how pleased by that he is.

They both promise Joonmyun repeatedly that they won’t eat in his car (even though Joonmyun himself has left food wrappers all over the place, Sehun notices once they get inside, lip curling with disdain). But they’re sure that he didn’t mean they couldn’t _drink_ anything on the way, so they stop at their favorite coffee shop.

Jongdae’s on duty today so they aim straight for his register, since Sehun and Zitao would both be willing to swear that their drinks always taste best when he makes them. “Not getting anything for Joonmyun hyung?” Jongdae asks playfully as he starts fixing their drinks. “How mean.” 

“Why would we get him anything?” Sehun asks, brow furrowing. Zitao wanders away, humming quietly along to the music playing in the shop, but Sehun stays put, contentedly taking in the aromas of coffee and baked goods as he leans against the counter. It always smells so good here.

It doesn’t distract him from noticing the hopeful glance Jongdae sends toward the shop window. “Isn’t he in the car?”

“Uh, no, we’re just borrowing it. Tao’s car isn’t getting here until—when is it, Tao?”

“A few weeks,” Zitao says absently from where he’s examining the pastries display. He taps the glass over a particularly delicious cake, expression wistful.

“So he’s letting you use his car to go on a date?” Jongdae asks. Sehun leans over the counter a little, scrutinizing Jongdae, and Jongdae blinks. “What?”

“Wanted to see if your eyes have hearts in them,” Sehun says promptly, and Jongdae bursts out laughing, the sound much too loud for the enclosed room, and waves him away.

“Answer your hyung!” he chides him.

Sehun grins, unrepentant, but obeys. “He’s letting us take the car for our trip—we’re going camping, for my birthday!”

Jongdae blinks, his brow creasing with obvious concern. “Happy birthday!” he begins, then adds, “But just you two? By yourselves?”

“Why do people keep asking us that?” Zitao asks with an exasperated sigh as he returns to Sehun’s side, resting his hand against Sehun’s lower back. “It won’t be a romantic weekend if other people come, too!”

“True, but you two seem…” Jongdae hesitates, just long enough that Sehun feels like he should be offended. “Are you _sure_ you want to go by yourselves?”

“There’ll be people in the car park,” Sehun points out. “And we’re not gonna fall off the bridge or anything.” He pauses, eyeing Zitao. “Well, I won’t.”

“Hey!” 

“I’m just saying, I’m not the one who tripped in the shower because I was look-”

“I’m never telling you anything again!” Zitao announces, his arms crossed over his chest as he turns his head away, lower lip puckered out so cutely that Sehun wants to bite it.

Jongdae passes them their drinks, then reaches under the counter and hands Zitao a small bag of muffins. “Here, some morphine for the trip,” he whispers, and laughs outright when Zitao turns his pout on _him_. Jongdae leans over the counter to pat Zitao’s arm. “They’re hyung’s treat, okay?”

“Thank you!” Zitao says, good mood restored in an instant.

“Yeah, thanks, hyung!” Sehun adds.

Jongdae smiles. “You’re welcome! Just be careful, and dress warm, okay? I don’t want you guys getting sick.”

“We will,” Zitao promises. Sehun nods in agreement.

There's only so much time they can spare if they're going to make the ferry, so after a few more words the two of them are buckled back in Joonmyun's car, and the bag of muffins is nestled in the cup holder in front of Zitao's drink. Sehun's order is warm in his hands, and he takes a careful sip of it as Zitao pulls out, waving at Jongdae through the window.

“The muffins smell so good,” Zitao says wistfully, his gaze darting toward Sehun in what has to be the one of the most obvious hints Sehun has ever seen.

“You want to eat in the car?” Sehun asks in mock astonishment. “I’m telling hyung.”

“Sehunnie! Just one bite!”

“Fine, fine,” Sehun says, drawing the syllables out as he opens the bag, tearing off a bite—which he promptly pops into his own mouth, relishing in Zitao’s disbelieving noises. “’S good.”

“Mean,” Zitao sulks, pouting again. Sehun still can’t kiss him—he’s really going to have to make up for the delays soon—so he settles for tearing off another bite and feeding it to Zitao, deliberately brushing his fingertips along the edge of Zitao’s bottom lip.

“I won’t tell hyung if you won’t,” Sehun says, and Zitao grins, reaching over to squeeze Sehun’s thigh. Sehun covers Zitao’s hand with his own, warm all over from his drink and from Zitao and from knowing that they have the whole weekend ahead of them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

By some miracle they manage to make the three o’clock ferry to the island. Despite his remaining reservations about camping, Zitao's determined not to wait until the five o'clock ferry. It doesn't make much of a difference to Sehun either way, until they're leaning on the railing as the ferry sets off and Zitao turns to him and says "I want as much time with you as I can get." He squeezes Sehun's hand, and Sehun can only hope he's not blushing.

It takes an hour for the ferry to reach the island, and Zitao spends most of it continually switching between taking pictures on his expensive film camera and selcas on his expensive phone. Sehun poses easily enough whenever Zitao calls on him to break the monotony of scenic shots of the ocean with the gradually shrinking mainland. He's never been more glad for his years as an ulzzang than he has since meeting Zitao, complying with ease as Zitao tells him to angle one way or another so the afternoon sun hits him just right.

Before they know it, it’s time for them to exit the ferry along with the rest of the campers. They both packed light, though even so Zitao insists on carrying the heavier load. He’s strong, Sehun thinks all over again as they trek out to the campsite, his gaze continually drifting to Zitao’s arms, Zitao’s thighs. God, he wishes they were there already. But he still has a long wait ahead of him, so he forces himself to talk instead, rambling on about childhood camping trips with his family or Jongin and Chanyeol.

The wait is even longer since Zitao keeps stopping to take more pictures, or to attempt to send some over his phone.

“Zitao,” Sehun says patiently as Zitao tries it yet again, waving his phone around determinedly, “they’ll never upload. Service is shit out here.”

“You never know,” Zitao says stubbornly. “Korea’s one of the most connected countries-”

“This is the wilderness!” Sehun insists, ignoring both Zitao’s unimpressed look and the fact that they can still see the port off in the distance.

By the time they make it to the campsite Zitao’s used nearly an entire roll of film. Sehun doesn’t even complain, no matter how many times Zitao lets out a delighted exclamation and has to stop to take pictures of whatever it is that’s caught his eye.

He catches up to Sehun again, linking arms with him. “Isn’t nature pretty, Hunhun?” he asks.

Sehun leans his head against Zitao’s shoulder. “Yeah, it’s great.” Especially when it’s just him and Zitao—well, and everyone else who’s camping on the island this weekend, but no one they have to interact with. No roommates, no conflicting class schedules, nothing to interrupt them. Sehun thinks of the supplies safely stowed in his backpack and shivers with anticipation.

Zitao presses a kiss to Sehun’s temple, squeezing his arm. “Not as pretty as you, though,” he says, keeping his voice low to avoid being overheard by the handful of campers walking along nearby.

“I know,” Sehun says airily, and laughs when Zitao kisses him again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Growing up, of course, Sehun and his family had always camped in car parks, surrounded by lots of other people. This time, though, Sehun foregoes that and looks around, shading his eyes with one hand, until he sees what looks like the ideal spot and tugs Zitao along with him.

Sure enough, once they make it to the hilltop, Zitao gasps. “ _Sehun-ah_ ,” he says quietly, taking in the vivid green field beneath their feet and the view beyond. From up here they can see out over the clear blue sea, the sight like something out of a travel ad, and Sehun smiles as he watches Zitao. He can all but hear him planning how to photograph it.

“It’ll be beautiful in the morning,” Zitao says, squeezing Sehun’s hand. “I can get sunrise pictures! You really did think of everything.”

“Well, I mostly thought that this would be private,” Sehun admits.

“Oh, right.” Zitao looks away, and Sehun beams. He knows Zitao’s not a virgin, so it’s funny that he’s the one that gets so flustered when Sehun brings it up. And nice, in a way. Sehun likes knowing that no matter how much experience Zitao has—Sehun doesn’t know the exact details, and doesn’t want to—this is special to him, too.

“So we should set up,” Sehun says after a few more seconds.

“Yeah, but first-” Zitao hooks his free arm around Sehun’s waist and holds his camera up and out far enough to get them both in the frame. “Do something cute.”

“Do I have to?” Sehun complains, but puts his fingers in a V-shape next to his face instants before Zitao takes the picture.

Zitao checks it, and then frowns. “We should do another, my face-”

“You look handsome,” Sehun corrects him, taking the camera away before Zitao can protest. “Former ulzzang, remember? You have to believe me.”

“You have to think I’m handsome, though.”

“No, I don’t,” Sehun debates, laughing as Zitao protests. “Come on, let’s set up so we can cook. I’m _hungry_.”

Setting up, like the walk to their campsite, takes longer than it should since Zitao keeps setting down whatever he's holding—be it a pole or a rope or even the instructions for how to pitch the tent—in exchange for his camera. He’s finishing off his second roll of film before Sehun ties the final knot. Cooking, on the other hand, goes comparably faster. They’d packed food ahead of time, and while Sehun is usually happy to let other people cook for him, fixing food over the mini gas stove is one thing he can handle easily enough. Soon they’re eating their stew happily, occasionally nudging each other’s shoulders and trading looks.

“Admit it, this trip was a great idea,” Sehun urges him.

“Yeah, okay, I guess it wasn’t bad.”

“Whatever, it’s great.”

“So far.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Sehun says, elbowing him, and Zitao giggles.

Zitao has his camera with him all the while, though he ends up putting it away before they finish eating. “It’s too cloudy for more pictures,” he remarks with a frown. “I was hoping it wouldn’t rain this weekend.”

“There’s always tomorrow,” Sehun says lazily. It’s quieter here than at school, he has a stomach full of delicious stew, he’s warm under the extra sweater Zitao had insisted he borrow, and he can cuddle against Zitao's side all he wants as soon as Zitao finishes with his camera and settles back into place beside him. 

Sehun’s almost ready to suggest that they go into the tent, but then Zitao has another idea. “Can we light a campfire?” he asks hopefully. “Like in the movies? Just a small one?”

Still determined to make Zitao’s camping experience a good one, especially now that he’s so disappointed about the threat of bad weather, Sehun spares a wistful thought for what they could be doing before he says, “Okay.”

“Do you know how to start one? I had sites about it saved on my phone, but since it won’t work…”

“Don’t worry, I remember,” Sehun assures him, and Zitao cheers.

It’s not long before Sehun has a small blaze going. The firelight throws Zitao’s features in sharp relief, and Zitao soon catches Sehun staring at him. “What?” Zitao asks lightly. “Going to tell me about how ugly I am?”

“Something like that,” Sehun mumbles, though it’s the last thing he’s up for right now.

Zitao shakes his head, then touches Sehun’s shoulder. “Are you warm enough? Want me to get you another sweater?”

“I’m okay,” Sehun says.

“Are you sure?” Zitao presses, and Sehun laughs but doesn’t argue as Zitao loops his arms around Sehun’s waist, pulling him in close. “I can keep you warm.”

“If you have to,” Sehun says as casually as he can, like he’s not nuzzling against Zitao, and they just hold each other for a few minutes before Sehun clears his throat. “So you like it so far? Camping, I mean?”

“Yeah, it’s fun! Except for how the bugs won’t leave me alone.” Zitao grimaces and lets Sehun go, pulling back his sleeve to investigate the ever-growing row of bug bites on his arm.

“I don’t get it,” Sehun tells him, tracing his fingertip just above them.

Zitao shakes his head. “Me either. I’m using the bug repellant Wonshik gave us!”

“No, I mean, I don’t get why they’d want _you_ ,” Sehun teases, and when Zitao makes an offended noise Sehun giggles and beams up at Zitao, lets Zitao drag him in close again.

“You think I’m delicious,” Zitao insists, and Sehun doesn’t even realize he’s licked his lips until he catches Zitao tracking the motion.

“Do I?” Sehun returns, though it comes out more breathless than sarcastic, and watches in fascination as Zitao swallows, throat bobbing.

“Sehun?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m done out here. Are you?”

His whole body nearly vibrating, Sehun nods. _Finally finally finally_. “Yeah.”

Sehun’s pretty sure no one’s ever cleaned up after themselves as quickly as they do. Almost as soon as they’ve finished packing their supplies away Zitao sweeps Sehun into a kiss, one that takes Sehun’s breath away and leaves him clinging to Zitao, panting, burning for more.

To his surprise, Zitao lets go of him, and Sehun’s confused until Zitao holds out his arms. “Come on.”

“You’re carrying me?”

“I’m doing this right, remember?”

Sehun’s heart pounds at that. He links one arm around Zitao’s neck, and Zitao catches him easily when he jumps up, Sehun settling into his arms. 

Zitao steals a kiss as he heads toward the tent. “Don’t drop me,” Sehun says, arms secure around Zitao’s neck, thrumming with anticipation and possibly more satisfied with the world in general than he’s ever been.

“I won’t drop you,” Zitao protests.

“I know,” Sehun says, and Zitao kisses him again. 

The moment’s nearly ruined when Zitao promptly trips over a tree root and nearly falls, but manages to hold onto Sehun and stabilize himself just in time. Once he’s recovered from the shock, Sehun buries his face in Zitao’s neck and starts snickering. “Don’t even say anything, Hunhun,” Zitao warns him, and Sehun laughs even more.

Zitao keeps his kisses to himself until they’re safely in the tent, but once he sets Sehun down on their sleeping bag he and Sehun are on each other—Sehun pulls Zitao down on top of him, both of them trying to kiss and touch everywhere and remove every article of clothing they have on all at once.

“I’m--gonna get bug bites on my ass,” Zitao predicts with resignation between kisses as Sehun makes quick work of their jeans fastenings.

“I’ll rub ointment on them,” Sehun offers, and Zitao giggles into their next kiss. 

Neither of them is laughing any more by the time they’ve shed the last of their clothes, too frantic for more. “Tao—Tao, where’s my bag?” 

Zitao gasps, grinding down against him before he shakes his head as if to clear it. “Hold on, I’ll-”

“Everything’s near the bottom, I packed them,” Sehun tells him, though he can’t resist pulling Zitao down for another few minutes of heated, desperate kisses before Zitao finally disentangles himself and rushes over to Sehun’s bag. 

It's when Zitao's two fingers deep in him, Sehun barely coherent enough to register hearing soft rain drops against the tent, that disaster strikes: one rain drop splatters against his face, centimeters away from his eye, and then another. Sehun winces but looks up and realizes there’s a tear in the tent.

“Shit, Tao-” he begins, sitting up and nudging Zitao’s thigh with his heel. 

Zitao follows his gaze, and immediately wails in alarm. “My camera bag!”

He's already scooting off of Sehun, ignoring drops of water on his boyfriend's face and the petulant "What about me?" that follows.

“You’re not made out of leather!” Zitao retorts as he rushes to stow the custom-made bag in a safer, more water-resistant place.

Sehun groans, dropping back down against the sleeping bag, then rolling out of the way of the now steady stream of raindrops. He’s starting to wonder if the universe has it in for him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

By the time Sehun wolfs down breakfast and they’ve hurried through the public showers, he’s feeling more alert and ready to hope the day will go more smoothly than the night before had. Or at least that Zitao will get fewer bug bites. 

The big plan for the day is to go hiking, of course, but first they decide to walk by the shoreline. It’s colder right near the water, so Zitao makes sure Sehun’s bundled up, retying Sehun’s scarf for him and then patting his cheeks affectionately.

Zitao talks about Qingdao often, but this is the first time Sehun has been able to see how he physically relaxes just being near the sea; how he tilts his face towards it, eyes closing briefly as if to listen, like he can hear something Sehun can’t.

They're careful not to walk too close, leaving their footprints behind in only dry sand where the small waves can't wash them away. If Sehun turns his head, he can see them trailing all the way back to path they'd taken down. 

“Too bad it’s so cold,” Zitao says, staring wistfully out over the water. "It probably won’t be warm enough to go in for a few weeks." 

"Maybe by your birthday, when we’re in Qingdao?" Sehun suggests. He tucks his hand into Zitao's, intertwining their fingers. They're both wearing gloves, but it's warm enough, close enough.

Zitao looks down, and Sehun can see that the cool sea breeze isn't the only thing reddening his cheeks. "Maybe.” 

"I dare you to wade in anyway," Sehun teases, leaning against him.

Zitao nudges him back. “ _You_ go wade in.”

“Okay,” Sehun says, and makes to head toward it, laughing and stumbling against Zitao when Zitao pulls him back with a cry of, “I didn’t _mean_ it!”

Soon after they head to the start of the hiking trail. There’s a group of other campers off in the distance, but otherwise Sehun and Zitao are alone, which is what Sehun had hoped for.

“How are we supposed to know where we’re going if I can’t get my compass app to work?” Zitao asks, staring dismally at the no connection symbol still showing on his phone.

“We follow the signs?”

Zitao sighs, putting his phone away, though Sehun’s not sure why he’s bothering when he’ll probably have it back out soon enough to take selcas. “I made so many preparations and we can’t even use them.”

“I told you,” Sehun says as they walk by a sign directing them to a nearby village, “this is the _wilderness_!”

It’s not an easy hike—Zitao could probably make better progress on his own, since unlike Sehun he’s not a couch potato, his legs fit and muscled under his colorful hiking pants, but he keeps the pace slow. “We should be careful!” he explains when Sehun asks him about it during one of their breaks. “And it’s not like we need to hurry. Going slow is nice.”

Sehun nods in agreement, and Zitao squeezes his hand, then lifts it and kisses the inside of his wrist. He probably didn’t mean for it to fluster Sehun but it still does, Sehun swallowing hard when his gaze meets Zitao’s over their joined hands.

The clouds dwindle away as they walk, and by the second hour the sky is almost perfectly clear, the vivid blue making an even more stunning backdrop for the dramatic views of the tree-covered land and jagged mountains. There are already some early flowers blooming, and Zitao stops to pick a few, a smile tugging at his lips as he hands them to Sehun.

“For the world’s flower boy,” he teases.

Sehun tilts his head, trying to look as disdainful as he can as he pretends to examine of them. “Do you really think they’re worthy of me?” he drawls, and when Zitao tries to look penitent but can’t keep from giggling Sehun does, too. 

Zitao's phone dies halfway through the hike, right in the middle of yet another selca, and Sehun has to try very hard not the snort when Zitao immediately squeaks in horror. 

"Use mine," he offers in consolation, digging in one of the many pockets of his jacket for his phone and holding it out once his fingers close around it.

“But what if I can get service here and hyung’s trying to send me a picture of Candy?” Zitao points out in dismay, frowning down at his phone.

“He’d send it to me, too,” Sehun reminds him.

Zitao takes Sehun’s phone at last, worrying at his lower lip. “I hope hyung fed her on time, and that she slept okay without me, and she didn’t-”

“She’s fine,” Sehun says, slipping his hand into the crook of Zitao’s arm. He teases Zitao about a lot of things, but never about Candy. Not when Candy’s so important to him and he’s so determined to raise her well. “We’ll see her tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” The concern fades from Zitao’s face as he looks up at Sehun, replaced with hope. “Do you think if we ever do this again we can bring her? If we camp in the car, and it’s only for a night?”

“Maybe. It would be cool.”

Zitao smiles at him. “I’m glad you love her so much, too.”

“I have good taste,” Sehun says fondly, and smiles back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

They arrive back at their campsite as the last rays of the sun are fading, feet aching and backs sore. Dinner passes more quickly than their picnic lunch on the trail had, when they had taken their time feeding each other and admiring the view, but this time when they’re finished, rather than being tugged to his feet to continue the hike Sehun is able to cuddle against Zitao on his extra coat to rest, his head propped on Zitao’s chest.

“Look at the stars, Sehun-ah,” Zitao says softly. “Aren’t they pretty?”

Unlike last night, the sky is completely clear, every star on display. Sehun does feel a little awe as he takes in the view. “They’re really pretty,” he agrees.

“My grandparents taught me some of the shapes when I was little,” Zitao tells him, freeing one of his arms so that he can connect the little dots in the sky. “But I don’t remember any of it anymore.”

“I don’t know anything about them,” Sehun admits. “Maybe it’s like clouds and you can make up your own.” He nudges Zitao. “See any that look like your car?”

Zitao laughs, then shifts, digging out his newly recharged phone. “Selca?”

“Okay.” Sehun leans in as Zitao holds the phone up, going for his usually v-shaped fingers pose, and Zitao takes two before checking them.

“Cute,” he declares, kissing Sehun’s temple.

Sehun nods in agreement once Zitao shows him, watching idly as Zitao exits back to the phone’s main screen. He’s changed his background—instead of the picture of the two of them at the mall a few weeks ago, it’s the one Zitao took of Sehun with Candy the day before.

“It’s cute, too,” Zitao says when he realizes Sehun’s noticed it.

“We need one of all of us,” Sehun remarks. “Like a family.”

Most guys, he knows, would’ve thought that that was a weird thing for someone they haven’t been dating long to say. He reflexively bites his tongue, gaze darting to Zitao’s face to see his reaction. Zitao’s eyes are softer than ever, he discovers, and as Sehun watches, transfixed, Zitao sets his phone down, then cups his hand against Sehun’s face to lean in for a slow, gentle kiss. Sehun sinks into it, into Zitao, lets Zitao roll him onto his back and lower him carefully against his coat, so warm now from their collective body heat, but breaks away with a confused whine when Zitao won’t let him deepen the kiss.

“I want-” Zitao hesitates, skimming his thumb along the side of Sehun’s jaw, “I want to take my time, remember? Can we try it my way this time?”

This is it, Sehun knows, the solid certainty of it echoing through him. No more waiting. Sehun strokes Zitao’s hair, charmed despite himself, and Zitao turns his face to nuzzle against Sehun’s hand. “Okay,” Sehun says, his voice catching in his throat, and Zitao smiles and leans back down, kissing him again.

It’s not long before Zitao coaxes him to his feet with a reminder that it’ll be much warmer in the tent. Zitao doesn’t try to carry him this time, since they’re only a few steps away. 

There’s not much extra room inside, so they strip off their coats before they go in, Sehun’s fingers trembling on the zipper. Zitao takes his when he’s done, indicating for him to go into the tent first, and sets both jackets down on top of their bags. Sehun settles on the sleeping bag and reaches over to turn on the lantern. The light casts a quiet glow over the inside of the tent. Zitao zips the tent shut, then kneels down on the sleeping bag before Sehun, cupping his hands around the back of Sehun’s neck and kissing him again, long and unhurried, coaxing Sehun’s mouth open.

Zitao finally breaks the kiss, touching his forehead to Sehun’s. “Is there anything you really want me to do, or-”

“Other than fuck me?” Sehun asks bluntly, and Zitao’s startled laugh fans warm against Sehun’s face. Sehun closes the distance between them again for more.

After a few more minutes Zitao pulls away again, but it’s to strip off his shirt this time, which Sehun can’t object to. Sometimes he still can’t believe that he’s the one who gets to look, to touch, to run his hand along the trail of dark hair leading down from Zitao’s stomach or circle his thumbs over Zitao’s sensitive nipples. He indulges himself now, pleased when Zitao whimpers and tugs at the bottom of Sehun’s shirt.

“Yours, too,” Zitao insists, and as soon as Sehun obeys Zitao is kissing him again, lowering Sehun onto his back.

It’s several minutes of roaming hands and heated kisses before Zitao’s hands finally slip to the waistband of Sehun’s pants, undoing the fastenings before quickly pushing them down. Their mouths part and Zitao gives Sehun a quick grin, lips swollen and eyes hot, that sends a fresh punch of arousal through him even before Zitao kisses his way down Sehun’s body until he’s hovering over where Sehun’s cock is straining against his pink briefs. 

Zitao nuzzles Sehun’s cock through the fabric. “It’s been too long since we did this,” Zitao says with a quiet sigh, which Sehun can feel even through his briefs, shivering at the sensation.

Sehun sometimes thinks Zitao is more enthusiastic about giving head than he is about getting it—which, given how Joonmyun’s had to knock more than once due to the noise while Sehun was blowing Zitao, is saying something. “You just did it Tuesday-”

“Too long ago,” Zitao insists, and before Sehun can comment Zitao’s pulling his briefs down and lifts his cock, holding it upright as he presses a fond, open-mouthed kiss to the head, then closes his mouth over it for a quick suck. He laps at the slit and pulls off. Sehun’s toes curl against the sleeping bag, and he unconsciously wets his lips. Zitao keeps going, licking a broad swipe up the underside, then one along the vein on his way back down, and when he sucks one of Sehun’s balls into his mouth Sehun drops back against the pillow, his whole body shuddering.

“Just think, Hunhun,” Zitao pulls off long enough to say, his voice gone dreamy, stroking Sehun’s shaft once with his free hand, “I can do this as long as I want.” 

Sehun swallows hard at the thought. Zitao’s prone to teasing even when they’re trying to get in as much as they can before the inevitable interruptions, likes watching Sehun’s reactions and drawing everything out. And now that they finally have one night to do whatever they want, for as long as they want…

Sehun soon loses track of time, his awareness narrowing down to his own body and Zitao’s mouth, to how one of Zitao’s hands is right next to Sehun’s, two of Zitao’s fingers overlapping his. Zitao’s talented and enthusiastic, a combination that always reduces Sehun to a panting, desperate mess within minutes, and tonight is no exception. Hours could have passed and Sehun wouldn’t have noticed, too focused on this, on Zitao.

Zitao holds his gaze, his eyes sultry and hot, pupils dilated, like something straight out of porn. Sehun shudders, reaching out to trace his fingertips over the side of Zitao’s face, skimming to brush where his swollen lips are stretched around Sehun’s cock, steadily working back and forth. Zitao moans, and the unexpected vibration has Sehun’s head dropping back against the pillow, his body tensing, heels digging into the ground.

“Tao-” he croaks, fully expecting Zitao to pull off, but Zitao’s fingers tangle with his and he sucks harder, his free hand stroking along as much of Sehun’s length that he can’t fit into his mouth. When Zitao moans again, Sehun comes with a cry. Zitao swallows everything—which has to be part of the birthday sex experience, since Zitao hardly ever does that.

Still trembling from the aftershocks, Sehun tries to gather his scattered wits. He’s so close to drifting off to sleep, especially once Zitao starts kissing his way back up Sehun’s body, his lips gentle and his warm hands following the path they set. But he can’t, Sehun reminds himself, rubbing his eyes. He and Zitao have lost enough chances; he can’t give up this one, too.

Zitao presses one last kiss to his chest, just above Sehun’s heart, then folds his hands over it, resting his chin on them. “Hi,” he says softly.

“Hi,” Sehun echoes, and laughs wryly. “You’re too good at that.”

“I don’t _have_ to do it anymore if it’s too-”

“That’s not what I meant!” Sehun says quickly, and when Zitao smirks Sehun frowns at him, winding his arms around Zitao. “Just kiss me again.”

“You didn’t even ask nicely,” Zitao comments with mock disapproval, though he claims Sehun’s mouth again before Sehun can even think up a retort.

Sehun had forgotten that Zitao was still half-dressed, but that doesn’t last much longer—Sehun focuses long enough to unfasten Zitao’s trousers for him, then yanks them off along with his briefs. Despite Sehun’s earlier exhaustion, it’s not long before Zitao has him worked up again. He’s more than ready when Zitao reaches off to the side, blindly feeling around for a few seconds before letting out a triumphant exclamation and holding the lube up with a flourish.

Which isn’t an overreaction, given what happened that time a few weeks ago. “Good job, you didn’t lose the lube this time,” Sehun says dryly.

“ _I_ wasn’t the one that lost it,” Zitao reminds him.

Sehun waves that away. “Details,” he says dismissively, and once he spreads his legs again and pointedly tugs Zitao’s hand down Zitao seems more than happy to move on, too.

They haven’t made it this far very often, but it’s happened enough times that Zitao knows how to angle his fingers to have Sehun a writhing mess underneath him. Sehun _knows_ he does. What he doesn’t know is why once Zitao eases a second finger inside Sehun he settles for measured, shallow strokes instead.

“You’re so impatient,” Zitao scolds as Sehun moves, arching his hips up to get the angle right himself if that’s what it takes. “I’m trying to go slow—”

“We’ve been going slow,” Sehun retorts. “Stop being gross and come _here_.”

Zitao must realize Sehun’s right because he folds, leaning forward to kiss Sehun just as he crooks his fingers, the rapid, insistent press against his prostate soon too much for Sehun to keep up with anything. 

Sehun hisses when Zitao adds a third finger, the initial stretch stinging, and Zitao looks up hastily from where he’d been sucking a bite mark into Sehun’s taut, quivering stomach, Zitao’s feline eyes all concern. “You okay, Sehunnie?”

“I will be,” Sehun manages to say, and nudges Zitao’s side with his foot. “Keep going.”

“Bossy,” Zitao says with mock indignity, but obeys. As if to help he returns his attention to Sehun’s cock, pressing kisses along the shaft, occasionally adding teasing licks or briefly sucking at the head before moving on again, everything building until Sehun has to tug his hair to get his attention.

“Now,” Sehun tells him.

“Are you sure?” Zitao asks, but he’s moving, already leaning up to hover over Sehun. Sehun can feel the body heat radiating from him, his skin slick with sweat when Sehun rests one hand on the back of his neck to tug him down.

“If you don’t fuck me _right now_ I’m leaving you here tomorrow,” Sehun warns him, breathless.

“You can’t leave me, I drove us,” Zitao reminds him.

“I’ll steal the keys.”

Zitao tsks. “Spoiled brat.”

“ _Your_ spoiled brat,” Sehun insists, and Zitao’s smile lights his entire face.

Zitao has the condom on in seconds, though Sehun’s too far gone to make a show of laughing at him for his eagerness. “If you need me to stop, or if anything’s-”

“I know,” Sehun promises, and claims one heated kiss, then another, and-

And then Zitao’s pressing inside him, finally. Both of them gasp. Sehun tenses involuntarily, and Zitao’s brow creases with concern. “Are you—”

Sehun shakes his head. “It’s fine, keep going,” he manages to say.

Zitao doesn’t right away, though, not until he’s tilted Sehun’s face up for more long, languid kisses, his free hand stroking in soft circles against Sehun’s waist. The familiar touches ground Sehun and let him relax again as his body slowly adjusts to the unfamiliar intrusion. 

“You okay?”

“I’m…” Sehun doesn’t know how to explain this, how it feels uncomfortable and right all at once. Zitao rubs his arms reassuringly, holding still even though Sehun can feel him trembling from the effort.

“I’ll wait,” Zitao says. “Just…”

“Only a minute-”

“I’ll _wait_ ,” Zitao interrupts, and waits for Sehun’s acknowledging nod before he presses kisses along Sehun’s jawline. Sehun threads a hand through Zitao’s hair and closes his eyes, listening to Zitao’s uneven breathing.

“Okay, now?” Sehun says finally, and Zitao exhales and moves, shallow thrusts that are easy enough to get used to. Sehun squeezes around him experimentally, managing a breathless laugh when Zitao whimpers.

“You can move, too,” Zitao tells him, squeezing his hip reassuringly, and hisses when Sehun does, following Zitao’s lead. “Good, you’re so good-”

“Sap,” Sehun says, ending on a gasp when Zitao nips his earlobe in retaliation.

His remaining discomfort fades quickly enough, the two of them settling into a rhythm, and Sehun’s ready for more by the time Zitao tilts Sehun’s hips up, the change in angle causing his cock to rub against Sehun’s prostate, sending a charge through Sehun’s body. “ _Tao_ -”

Sehun can sense it when Zitao smiles and moves faster, kissing all over Sehun’s neck and collarbones as his cock presses against Sehun’s prostate over and over, until Sehun yanks him in for a messy, heated kiss, one he can barely keep up, his head spinning from all the stimulation. 

“Please, Zitao, _please_ -” Sehun gasps mindlessly, not sure if he’s asking for Zitao to let him finish or for this to never end, but Zitao makes the decision for him by reaching down and wrapping one hand around Sehun’s cock, tugging it in time with his thrusts until Sehun comes, crying out a strangled version of Zitao’s name.

He’s barely aware when Zitao finishes, just lets Zitao lower him onto the sleeping bag and dozes off and on, half-listening to Zitao’s soft praises. Zitao cuddles him close, still kissing him all over but gently now, lips brushing against his cheeks and jawline and eyelids. 

Sehun does stir long enough to mumble a complaint when Zitao carefully pulls out and sits up. The sudden loss of warmth is jarring and unwelcome.

“I just have to clean us up,” Zitao reassures him, evading Sehun’s needy hands. “I’ll be right back.”

Sehun frowns, wanting nothing more than to lie there with Zitao forever, but lets him get up. He means to wait for Zitao to come back, but slips into a half-sleep again. He’s aware of rustling sounds, of Zitao wiping him off, of Zitao guiding him up so that he can switch the blanket they were lying on. And then, finally, Zitao crawls back in with him, and Sehun hums in satisfaction, curling himself around his boyfriend, pressing his face into the crook of his neck.

“We should unzip the tent a little,” Zitao says. “The smell-”

“It’s fine,” Sehun murmurs, breathing him in. Zitao still smells like himself, and like the outdoors and sweat and _them_. Sehun burrows closer, wanting more.

“How are you feeling? Did you like it?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Sehun tells him.

“They’re not stupid, they’re important.”

All Sehun wants to do right now is sleep, warm and satisfied, but he forces himself to open his eyes and look at Zitao. “I’m really happy,” he tells him, and it’s worth it for the beaming smile Zitao gives him in return.

 

 

 

 

 

 

All too soon Sehun is awakened again by Zitao’s alarm. 

Zitao’s a morning person, which Sehun will never understand, and he’s half out of the sleeping bag before Sehun is alert enough to grab him around the waist and hold on. “Go back to sleep, Hunhun,” Zitao whispers, stroking Sehun’s sleep-tangled hair. Sehun leans into the touch shamelessly. “I’m just taking sunrise pictures. I’ll be back soon.”

“Later,” Sehun grumbles. “Stay.”

“That’s not how sunrises work,” Zitao says wryly, and Sehun finally lets him go. “You should rest more after last night-”

“ _Please_ ,” Sehun scoffs, and Zitao laughs and gets up, hurriedly dressing in a fresh set of clothes and grabbing his coat and camera bag before exiting the tent. Instead of immediately following, Sehun rolls over into the warm space Zitao left behind with a groan, pressing his face into Zitao’s pillow and inhaling his scent as he thinks with satisfaction about the night before and how there will be so many more ahead.

Once he does pull on the clothes they’d discarded the night before and stagger out of the tent, even he has to admit the sight of the sunrise coming up on the horizon, reflecting over the water and highlighting the mountains in the distance, is worth waking up for. 

Zitao spares him a glance as he approaches, eyes bright with excitement. “Isn’t it beautiful, Sehun?” he says, sighing dreamily.

“Yeah,” Sehun says distractedly, leaning in and pressing kisses along his neck, then letting his hands slip under Zitao’s coat and shirt and-

Zitao twists away from him with a quiet giggle. “Hunhun, don’t distract me.”

Sehun frowns, folding his arms over his chest. “Not even on my birthday?” 

“Five minutes,” Zitao promises, and Sehun sighs but agrees.

But his irritation trickles away, bit by bit, as he watches Zitao—strong hands gentle on the camera, the arch of his neck as he angles the camera up, the curve of his mouth as he smiles when he gets what must be an especially good shot. Sehun eases in close again, can never resist for long, but this time instead of insistent touches he settles for molding himself along Zitao’s back again, arms looped around Zitao’s waist, and rests his chin on Zitao’s shoulder.

He can feel Zitao’s body vibrate with silent laughter as Zitao turns to kiss the top of his head. “You can go back to sleep,” Zitao reminds him. “We don’t need to get ready to go for a while.”

“I want to be with you,” Sehun insists, though by the time Zitao is ready to put his camera away and focus on Sehun, Sehun is nodding off against Zitao’s shoulder, eyes closed.

Zitao leads him back into the tent and they curl up together in the sleeping bag again. Sehun’s eyes close as soon as his head hits the pillow. Sehun sighs quietly at the comforting feel of Zitao’s fingertips stroking circles against his scalp. “Do you want your present now or do you want to sleep?” Zitao asks.

“Sleep,” Sehun mumbles, tightening his grip on Zitao’s shirt. “Stay with me?”

“I will,” Zitao promises, brushing his lips against Sehun’s forehead. “Happy birthday, Sehunnie.”

Sehun’s still aching, from the hike and from the sex and from two nights of sleeping on the ground; he’d kill for a long shower and he’s going to make sure they stop for a lunch someone else cooks and for drinks at the coffee shop on the way back. And even so, he thinks as he falls asleep again, there’s nowhere he’d rather be right now than here with Zitao.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The rest of the morning is a flurry of activity as they repack their belongings, dismantle the tent and pick up after themselves. Even Sehun's birthday, as special as it is, doesn't mean complete freedom from weekend homework and the other realities of life back in Seoul. 

They manage to catch an early enough ferry that they'll be back by mid-afternoon, and stake out their own little corner during the trip. They keep their hands off each other—mostly—making up for it by huddling close together, under the cover of looking through all the pictures Zitao’s taken.

“Tao?”

“Yeah?” Zitao looks up, smile dazzling, and the words catch in Sehun’s throat for a second. Zitao’s his, he thinks, the idea still surreal, and he’s Zitao’s. Sometimes it’s still too much to think about.

He swallows all that somehow, even though he’s pretty sure that if he didn’t, Zitao would say he feels the same way sometimes, too. “Can I stay over tonight?”

“Yeah!” Zitao says immediately. “Candy misses her other daddy, too!”

Sehun has to settle for just smiling at that, at least for now. But he’ll have later, he reminds himself, toying with the black and white bracelet around his wrist; his birthday gift from Zitao, a twin to the one Zitao wears almost every day. And right now he has the knowledge that Zitao came out here with him despite his own reservations, just to make Sehun happy.

Sehun rests his head on Zitao’s shoulder as Zitao goes back to looking through his pictures, his other arm securely around Sehun. A few more weeks until they can go to Qingdao, and soon after that Jongin’s dance showcase will be over, so his routine will get back to normal, and Joonmyun will take his exams, so he’ll finally start sleeping and leaving the apartment again. As badly as Sehun wants them to have guaranteed privacy right now, he can wait. Patience isn’t his strong suit, but it’s worth it for Zitao. 

Besides, the trip to Qingdao isn’t the only way they’ll be able to get away. Zitao had sent him so many pictures and sites about Maseratis during the last few weeks, and even though Sehun had made fun of him for his extravagant taste, he’d also thought about how the leather seats would feel against his skin; how the huge interior would mean there’s room for him to straddle Zitao in the front seat and- 

He wets his lips. “Tao?”

Zitao’s currently testing different filters on a picture of him and Sehun, shaking his head slightly as he undoes the latest change he’s tried. His eyes are narrowed in thought, but he spares Sehun a, “Hmm?” 

“When’s your car getting here?” Sehun asks. Zitao glances sideways at him, and then he grins, warm and slow, like he knows exactly why Sehun’s asking. Sehun is already counting down to the next chance he’ll have to kiss Zitao.


End file.
